


And Melkor Sang Concordant with the Ainur

by timetravelingsherlockian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel True Forms (Supernatural), Footnotes, M/M, More of an exploration than a fix-it, Other, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Pre-Canon, Quote: Y yo a ti Cas | Me too (Supernatural), Time Travel, Tolkien References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetravelingsherlockian/pseuds/timetravelingsherlockian
Summary: In the beginning, the story goes, Chuck said, LET THERE BE LIGHT. And it was made of angels.Chuck did other things as well; right now, He was fascinated with creating a being that was likehim, gold and bright and could create destinies themselves. But those things aren’t important, now.What is important is a misplaced Heavenly occupant is moving towards the light.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 4





	And Melkor Sang Concordant with the Ainur

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Castiel and Dean - Angel With a shotgun [Updated With Newer Seasons included]](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/748953) by Angeldove. 



> In which I watched Angeldove's "Castiel and Dean - Angel With a shotgun" and thought, 'wow. That is a lot of bloodshed for just one man. Is Dean's soul really that pretty? Then I realized...wasn't Cas having to get frequently brainwashed before he met Dean? I wonder what made Castiel a little bit of a loose cannon from the start?
> 
> Happy (very) belated birthday, Dean!

It was funny, walking through Heaven. He could be anywhere; he could be any _when_. Sammy had, despite living his own lifetime after Dean,[1] shown up that first afternoon, before Dean had gotten bored of the weather and had begun to contemplate the perfect quiet of driving in the rain, just to give him something else to drive _through_. 

Now, he’d gotten out of the remade Impala to walk towards the stars. Dean was pretty sure he could get himself there, if he kept walking; he had forever. As much as he liked Heaven’s front entrance, Dean was pretty sure he couldn’t trust himself until he saw behind the screen. Sammy wouldn’t even miss him.

So he was taking the backstreets’ backstreets: a long field where the grass was just short enough to walk through, enough dew to cool the air but not enough to create damp, scratchy hems,[2] directing his spiritual feet to walk off the face of the earth and dive into the horizon. This was not quite what happened: Dean stepped around two dark masses into a nothing, filled with what his human soul pumped through the familiarity of his ears as singing. And the lights; the lights were _bright_. Far away, yet would probably still burn out his eyes if anything substantial of them was left, and they left the impressions of rings and wings and goat’s heads on the cornea-shaped bit of his soul. 

_So_ , Dean thought, _these were the stars._

And he felt, he felt something he _recognized_ as Chuck; not the Chuck that was waiting to die into his Judgement on Earth, but like an older photo of a parent you once knew, before you were a twinkle in their eye; when you were a miscellaneous gamete that was sitting around, waiting to be expunged. 

Dean hadn’t liked the Lord of the Rings, except for the movies, which he could watch _all day_ and the Battle of Helm’s Deep never failed to make him laugh and cheer at dawn.[3] But, Dean was both an apostle of Zeppelin and Sam’s brother, so he knew the lore. Knew how Eru Ilúvatar and the Ainur sang into being the harmonious creation, and he wondered if Tolkien had been here before.

Because, Dean knew[4] that’s what he was listening to. The Chorus before the Earth, before Chuck had made and created and abandoned his favorite children, when they spun fresh galaxies of pure matter and no imbalance was there to tilt the milky way. Somehow, from somewhen, had stumbled his human soul.

The singing didn’t stop.

The singing rose.

Dean listened to tears in his soul’s eyes and could feel his skin almost _glow_ if that was impossible. He felt the song make and peel back his flesh and remake him again in Heaven.[5] And he felt, he felt Chuck’s eyes upon him.

Dean was surprised it wasn’t a sickening feeling, after all he and Chuck had gone through, after all he and Chuck were, turned into being; it felt like his father’s hands the one birthday his dad had remembered, when he had broken his leg from a ghost and he’d been flying from adult doses of pain meds and his dad had bothered with a cookie cake. It had felt like a good day because, through the haze of the painkillers and sugar, his dad had said, “I’m glad I stopped by for this. Glad I could be here for you. Would you like for me to switch out the peas?”[6] It wasn’t a _perfect_ memory, in that he still had a ghost to be high off of painkillers from, and his dad had taken off the day after to leave Sammy on pea-switching duty,[7] and unlike this moment, which was just filled with light and music he could feel in his skin and not thinking about the knowledge that it was only going to get worse from here, his life _did_ get better.[8]

But, Heaven and Hell and Purgatory and _Christ_ , wasn’t it a wonder to feel an endless deity **_change_**. 

The tune changed.

To Dean, it didn’t sound any _worse_ ; the closest he could reckon it to was the crescendo after the first verse of Bohemian Rhapsody.[9] It was the build of _inspiration_. When the Bible said Chuck had created man in his image, it was talking about _his_ image. And the accompanying lights of wings and lions and snakes and spinning rings, ever in acquiescence, followed.

...And then the tide rolled out again, Chuck again preoccupied with creation,[10] and while Chuck knew Dean was there, his attention was not equally distributed in all places; he likely created wayside for Dean, at this point, to be set to.

Dean took a step forward, though it wasn’t forward as much as it was _towards_.

He picked a point of swirling, flapping, spinning light that looked, well, that looked fine,[11] and stepped moved towards. 

In the beginning, the story goes, Chuck said, LET THERE BE LIGHT. And it was made of angels.

Chuck did other things as well; right now, he was fascinated with creating a being that was like _him_ , gold and bright and could create destinies themselves.[12] But those things aren’t important, now.

What is important is a misplaced Heavenly occupant is moving towards the light.

The entity didn’t stop singing. It was larger than most things besides mountains that Dean had ever seen. It spun a ring around him in-tune with his Father’s new melody.

Chuck[13] had made it that, if you move towards light, it, relatively, compresses.

Dean swallowed.

He knew that blue anywhere.

“Hey, Cas,” he laughed, touched the curious ring, “I guess I’m looking at baby photos right now.”

Cas let out a high-pitched tone that was picked up by the Chorus, thus saving the seraph from becoming Melkor. 

“It’s been...well, it hasn’t been a long time yet, has it? What were you, born yesterday?” Dean laughed at his own joke again, the tones to be picked up and incorporated into the Host. Dean felt the brush of something he decided to interpret as a wing.

“I’m just glad you decided...” Dean looked up at the new sky, that Castiel[14] was part of, “and, uh. Me too Cas. Me too.

“Felt like I needed to say that.”

And with that, the seeds of Man were created; in several-billion years, a ground-dwelling hominid would sew together some pants and stumble out of a garden.

But right now, the universe had its first excess: Carbon.[15]

Castiel started turning red.

Dean started to feel something like grass brush the edges of his jeans; enough to cool the air around him, not enough to make them uncomfortably damp.

Dean stared at the distant sky.

At the yellow lights of the Impala close to the road.

Watched for a blue-shifted falling star.

—————————— 

[1] And thank Someone for that, that Sammy had been able to keep going, after everything. Even after him.[return to text]

[2] This had never happened in the entirety of Earth. In Heaven, this result was from two paradoxical guidelines: 1) create only the Hallmark picturesque and 2) a prohibition of inconvenience. These oblique imparitives were squared by Heaven’s highest imperative: 1) a direction of perfection. And a very harried decorator who decided that dew was no longer damp.[return to text]

[3] He’d watched it twice in Heaven with Sammy already.[return to text]

[4] Like he knew where roads would take him in Heaven.[return to text]

[5] (Because that was all there was, now, Heaven; there was not yet a division; there was not yet a Falling or a Below or an _After_.)[return to text]

[6] The ghost had also, vindictively, punched him in the face.[return to text]

[7] Which Dean had refused to let him do, so he’d forgone the frozen peas and hobbled around himself.[return to text]

[8] Before Cas was gone and he was impaled on that spike.* [return to text]

[9] And didn’t that explain some things.[return to text]

[10] As, Dean supposed at this point, He should be.[return to text]

[11] Dean wasn’t sure why he picked that one; it was a random choice, like cake or ice cream.[return to text]

[12] He would wake up to the hangover that was most of Genesis – I _and_ II Kings to realize it had been a fantastically bad idea, and would spend the subsequent every future era sulking over it.[return to text]

[13] —And maybe a fresh Gabriel, who already wanted to make things for the universe complicated and confusing.[return to text]

[14] He wasn’t quite Cas yet; not for several billion years.[return to text]

[15] “The sluttiest element,” Dean had once heard Charlie say, as she and Sam tried to explain how Carbon didn’t care; it would bond with anything.[return to text]

* And yes, to Dean, they deserved to be on the same line.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> Set in either the sad universe where they meet one first (last) time, or in the one where Dean really does pull a Howl's Moving Castle in Heaven. Angst to taste.
> 
> Title references the Silmarillion, where the Tolkien's first rebellious angel, Melkor, sang discordant from the Host (the Ainur) to create all the terrible things and suffering in the world. 
> 
> Thanks to La_Temperanza's [AO3 guide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579026?style=disable&view_full_work=true) for helping me figure out footnotes.
> 
> unbeta'ed.


End file.
